


Female Gaze

by Writing-Rammstein (writingfanfic)



Category: Rammstein
Genre: F/M, Fingerfucking, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-22
Updated: 2018-02-22
Packaged: 2019-03-22 08:15:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13759977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingfanfic/pseuds/Writing-Rammstein
Summary: For the prompt: 'Till isn't wearing a shirt, the reader gets turned on by Till's sexy body (even though it's definitely not the first time she's seen him shirtless, nor is it the first time they've had sex), and it leads to smut.'Hell yeah. Have you seen that man shirtless?





	Female Gaze

You peer over your book, and bite your lip a little as Till lifts up the corner of the other sofa a little, muscles flexing, and looks underneath, before sighing and lowering it back down carefully. He’s been doing this for five minutes. You are a lucky, lucky girl.

“What have you lost?” you ask, sitting up and uncrossing your legs, and he looks up at you.

“I have dropped… my credit card.” You look at him, and he shrugs embarrassedly, straightening up. “I was wondering if it is under the sofa. Nothing more.”

“Carry on,” you grin, and he raises an eyebrow at you.

“Are you enjoying the show?” he asks, smirking, and flexes. You feel yourself ache, and all the blood rushes to two places, your cheeks and… otherwise. “You are dreadful. If I look at women like you look at me, there are two or three headlines about how I am obsessed with sex.”

“You have your poetry to back it up,” you counter, and he grins, before marching over and pushing you down onto the couch, kissing you passionately. You grin at him, and he smirks, pushing his hands under your shirt - you trace your fingers over his chest, fingers running over the scar tissue and marks. You love every inch of him - could read him like a map, or braille, telling the story of who he is - and the fact he’s about as wide as he is tall and probably could lift you above his head is pretty great also. “I can’t help it.”

“Neither can I, beautiful,” he says, softly, and his rough hand pushes into your bra, stroking your nipple. You moan under your breath, and bite your lip, grinning at him before scratching gently down that beautiful, broad chest; he growls under his breath, and kisses your neck. You can feel his teeth behind his lips - it’s a little exhilarating, knowing that he could just sink them in until you bleed, but he’s choosing to be soft and gentle. He takes your wrists and lifts them above your head, holding them there for a moment as he kisses your lips again, and then pulls your shirt up and your bra down, licking at one nipple as he pinches the other, rolling it between his thumb and fingers slowly as you pant his name, yelping when he pinches a little harder.

“God, you love hurting me, don’t you,” you gasp, teasingly, and he nods.

“Of course, but only as long as I get to take care of you afterwards, _Liebling_.” He kisses your breasts gently, biting softly at them both, and then kisses you as you feel his hand slide up between your legs; he bites your lip to catch your moan as you feel him push your panties aside and slide his fingers inside you, stretching you. As he pulls back, you taste blood, and realise he’s split your lip and is looking _very_ smug about it, but you don’t have time to care as he begins to stroke you with his thumb, rubbing your clit in circles that make your body shiver.

You sprawl out backwards, aware your breasts are spilling out from under your top but unable to care, and let him touch you, watching him watch you, seeing where his eyes go and what he does as you whimper for him. He seems to love watching your chest heaves as he changes speed and pressure; as he slides another finger inside you, he licks his lips almost without realising, and it makes you squirm around his fingers.

“You are beautiful, _Liebchen_ ,” he whispers, and you splay your fingers on his chest, stroking over every line and dint and mark.

“And you’re so handsome. So, so handsome,” you murmur, and whimper as he rubs you harder, making you whimper his name. He dips his head again, stubble scratching against your sensitive nipples as he licks and sucks them, and you close your eyes, surrendering to the feelings that’re seemingly coming from everywhere. Every inch of your skin feels as if you are being electrocuted, and he kisses you again, the taste of blood filling your mouth once more as you grind yourself down on his fingers.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he murmurs, and you moan his name, chasing the feeling that builds up every time he pumps his fingers in and out of you. “Sweetheart.” He leans in, kissing your neck, up to your ear, gently tugging on your earlobe with his teeth again, before whispering something in German. You aren’t sure what he says - you are not 100% up on your sex slang, and the blood rushing through your ears is making it hard to hear anything - but it sounds sexy, and you tighten around his fingers as you come, whimpering violently and still grinding yourself down upon them.

He waits until you have slumped back onto the sofa, chest heaving, eyes bright, and then grins, sliding his fingers out slowly.

“Perhaps now I can maybe search for this card in peace?” he jokes, and you feebly swat at him with the pillow. “No? Perhaps you may need time to worship my chest.” He pushes himself up - he’s hard, but when you attempt to unbutton his pants you are swatted away. “ _Later_. I am looking for my card for a reason, and you have distracted me…” He wanders out of the room, and you count to five.

“ _It’s on the desk in your bedroom, you could’ve just asked_ …!” you yell.

“ _…bitch_!” comes the reply, and you smirk, readjusting your clothing.


End file.
